


Heartless

by FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dream Pack, Drug Use, Implied Rovinsky, M/M, Prokopinsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/FalseCamaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiang scoffed, "You don't have a heart."</p><p>"That's what worries me." One hand lifting high, reaching for the sun, Kavinsky sighed. "If it's not there, why's it hurt so much?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartless

"This shit'll kill you, y'know."

 

Kavinsky did the line just the same, sniffling and wiping a hand beneath his nose before he said, his voice thick, "There're worse things."

 

Wrinkling his nose and resting his hands behind him against the warm metal of the Mitsubishi's hood, Prokopenko asked, incredulous, " _Like what_?"

 

"Y'ever had your heart broken?"

 

It sounded hypothetical, and Proko bit his tongue. There was blood in his mouth within seconds.

 

It was odd and disturbing and _just plain **wrong**_ , seeing K like this: Their fearless leader a fragile boy instead of the wild Pagan god they'd grown used to. Kavinsky had been this way since the Fourth, since Lynch had flung him out of the way of the dragon he'd pulled from his dreams.

 

It was all Lynch's fault, Proko was sure.

 

"Everyone gets their heart broken sometime." Swan was the one to offer comfort, as he always was. "You just gotta move on. It's not as--"

 

"How the fuck would you know?" It was half a demand, and half something else. There was something tight in K's voice, something broken, something strangely _envious_. "You and Skov've been together forever."

 

Glancing to Skov, who sat beside him on the Mitsu's bumper, Swan said nothing, casting a pleading look up at Prokopenko.

 

It wasn't Proko who took up the challenge, but Jiang, splayed out on the roof, saying simply, "Man the fuck up."

 

"Fuck you." There was surprisingly little venom in Kavinsky's voice. It was unfitting. Groaning, he sprawled back over the hood, tossing an arm over his eyes. The sallow skin of his forearm and the curve of his elbow were dotted with track marks. "Fuck all of you."

 

"You already have."

 

That got a snort, at least, and a half-hearted, "Fuck you _especially_ , Skov."

 

Skov did nothing to argue, merely leaning closer to Swan to rest his chin on the shorter boy's head. Swan tossed him a tiny, fond smile.

 

"Coke'll hurt you," Kavinsky suddenly said, and Prokopenko cast a glance down at him. Even with the sun shining in his eyes, his pupils were blown huge. He'd tossed his shades to the dirt when they'd first arrived at the old fairground, running over them for good measure. "Maybe it'll even kill you. At least it can't break your heart."

 

Above him, Jiang scoffed, "You don't have a heart."

 

"That's what worries me." One hand lifting high, reaching for the sun, Kavinsky sighed. "If it's not there, why's it hurt so much?"

 

Jiang was the one to hazard a guess: "'Cause you're a pussy?"

 

Again, K hissed, " _Fuck you_." That time, it sounded like he meant it.

 

"If I let you," Jiang asked, rolling onto his stomach, pillowing his chin on his folded arms, "would you stop moping?"

 

Though it felt odd to be honest, Kavinsky reluctantly tried it out, saying, "Prob'ly not."

 

Carefully, Prokopenko reached out to touch Kavinsky's knee.

 

From the bumper, at the same time, Swan did the same. He caught Proko's eye with a hesitant smile.

 

Holding Swan's amber gaze for a few seconds longer, Prokopenko looked up at Kavinsky, hand tightening on the other boy's knee. Gently, he said, "K..."

 

"You never answered my question." _Avoidance_. Prokopenko held back a sigh. "Have you ever had your heart broken, Proko?"

 

"Only by you."

 

Furrowing his brow, K propped up onto his elbows, meeting Proko's colorless eyes when he asked, "Do dream things even _have_ hearts?"

 

"It kinda aches." The admission came softly, and Prokopenko pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes slipping closed as he felt the beating of blood beneath his skin. "I guess I must."

 

"You're a part of me, y'know." Kavinsky dropped his hand from the sky, pressing it to Prokopenko's chest, just to the side of the other boy's own hand.

 

Their fingers brushed, and Prokopenko had to fight every instinct he had to keep from tangling their hands together. The fact that their hearts matched their beats sent a lump rising in his throat.

 

"That's not _your_ heart aching, Proko." K's voice was soft, and he steadfastly refused to meet Prokopenko's eyes, his own gaze on their barely-touching hands, feeling their identical heartbeats through soft cotton and bruised skin and the cage of Prokopenko's dreamed ribs. " _It's mine_."

**Author's Note:**

> Can we pretend K survived the Fourth? Please?
> 
> While the title is a generality, The Fray's song of the same name is appropriate listening for this angsty-ass fic. Angst is my calling, did you know? God knows these boys are angst fodder. These dream babbies will be the end of me :P
> 
> I go by pr0ko on Tumblr; Come yell about the dream pack with me! :)


End file.
